Page 46 of Debt of My Soul

Chapter 20

Fleur

As soon as the word smoke is out of my mouth, the fire alarm goes off. Thick and gray it pours into the living room from down the back hallway. It’s not even coming from the kitchen.

I jump up from the couch, rushing toward the smoke. Where the hell is that coming from? Did I leave a candle burning?

“Fleur!” Adam shouts, but I move anyway down the hall and to my bedroom. Plumes of dark smoke climb the walls, and I turn exactly as the crackling of wood sounds. How did it start here? And so quick—everything is catching so fast. The gray smoke turns into a glinting orange fire that rages over my headboard. It’s hot, and I turn on my heels and run to the kitchen. I smack into Adam and he grabs my hand.

“We have to get out.”

We take off to the front door, and I grab my cell phone off the table before we spill into the front yard. I gasp at the sight of my newly renovated home. Flames rapidly consume the walls, the reflections shimmering in each of the windows. The white wood siding turns to black with each lick of flame.

The smell of rancid smoke and burning wood invades my nostrils and I choke back a cough.

“Fleur, we need to leave. Come on.” Adam pulls at me, but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed by the sight of all I poured into this home falling around me. Beams crack and pop, with the heat getting hotter and hotter.

“We need to call the fire department.” I fumble with my phone, tears threatening to spill faster than I have the hands to wipe them away.

A chuckle scares me from behind, and my phone flips out of my hand. I turn to see five men walking toward the house from the road. Behind them, their cars and bikes sit, and I let out a whimper.

No.

Adam steps up to them. “Did you do this, Blitz? Did you seriously?—”

Blitz delivers a punch to the side of Adam’s head, and he goes down. Sprawled out on the grass, he moans in a cry of pain.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I scream at the men before falling beside Adam. Blood seeps from his nose as he tries to get up. Spitting, he rolls over, and another fist lands on his stomach. The sound of air rushing out of him makes me shiver and he coughs.

Wincing in pain, he grits out, “Fleur ...” I think for a moment he’s going to tell me to run, to get out of here. Instead, he continues, “… help me.”

Fire rages all around us, reflected in each of the men’s eyes as they stare down at Adam. I reach for him, but?—

“Take her,” someone says. I jerk, turning to run, but a yank to the back of my shirt has me flying back into large arms. They wrap around me as I claw at the sweaty skin gripping me tight. He lifts me off the ground, and I thrash.

“Leave her alone. This is about me. This?—”

Another blow to Adam’s face has me flailing until the man loses his grip and I fall to the ground. The grass under my hands feels like a fresh spring of cool water compared to the heat blazing at my back.

Run, run, run,I tell myself, scrambling for purchase against the slick green. I slip, the tug on my ankle pulling me back down before I can fully stand. My foot kicks out behind me, connecting with a man’s face. Refusing to turn to look, I crawl, panting and struggling not to collapse. Smoke fills my lungs, and I cough, trying to suck in another breath.

Too close.Too close to the blazing fire.

My hands clench around the grass. With large fistfuls, my fingernails dig into the dirt as if that will anchor me. Boots step into my vision, and I let out a wail as I’m torn up by my hair.

Crying out in pain, I reach for my head. A man’s face hovers in front of mine, and I can almost taste the stench of his breath in my own. I clutch his wrists, trying to remove his hands from my hair. The scream lodged in my throat finally erupts as he spins me around and places me in a headlock.

More crackles and pops sound from the house, and I turn to see the roof cave-in before the man drags me backward down the driveway. Adam’s body lies on the ground by my favorite oak tree. Unable to make out if he’s moving or not, I shriek, calling out his name, but there’s no response. The other four men turn from him and follow to where I’m being heaved toward a vehicle.

A man with silver teeth gets in my face and cups me between my thighs.

“I can’t wait to play.” The silver in his mouth widens into a large smile, and I flinch, clinging to any extra energy I can.

Lunging forward, I try to escape the headlock, effectively cutting off my air supply. I suck in a breath, gasping for air.

“No! Let me go!”

My mind is a muddled mess between fighting back and trying to understand. I can’t make sense of what’s happening. Why are they taking me?

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